


Please Don't Mind

by timelordangel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Young!Dean, bobby's dean's father figure, teenager!cas, teenager!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/timelordangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventeen year old Dean hasn't told anyone about his occasional crushes on boys, but now there's a dark haired boy who won't leave Dean's mind. Dean's at Bobby's for a weekend while his dad is on a hunt, and Dean can't quite keep his mind on cars, but Bobby might just be the one person in his life who actually doesn't mind so much after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Mind

“Dean, we’ve got a car to fix. I want you to do it.” Bobby pushed his way through the door of his home at the salvage yard. The sky outside was growing darker by the minute, the last bit of sunlight filtering in and glazing across the carpet.

“By myself?” Dean perked up from the desk, his fingers on the edges of a car magazine from ’91 he had found in the desk. He hadn’t been paying attention to it for quite some time, but he hastily closed it and turned his attention to Bobby.

“No, I’ll help you this time. You’re getting’ awful good at fixin’ that Impala of John’s, but I’m starting to think you don’t know how to fix anything else, boy.” Bobby chuckled roughly and pulled a chair over to the desk, grabbing papers and shuffling them out of the way.

“I’ve fixed loads of cars, helped at least,” Dean frowned, “If it’s just a transmission problem I could try-“

“Have you even touched the inside of a manual?” Bobby sat down beside Dean.

“Dad’s shown me one.” Dean lied as moved his chair over and shoved the magazine off to his left. “What are you doing?”

Bobby had rolled his eyes before pulling over a clean sheet of paper and grabbing a pen, beginning to draw a boxed shape. He paused when it was obviously the shape of a car and looked at Dean. “Tell me, what is this?”

“A car?” Dean squinted ridiculously. “Bobby, I’m seventeen.”

“Correct. Where’s the transmission?” Bobby gave Dean the pen and watched as Dean dragged the pen carefully over the paper in a messy square behind the first tire. “Perfect.”

Bobby began to speak again, but the light of the lamp caught on the edge of the paper and drew Dean’s eye toward it. For a second Dean imagined it bursting into flames, turning the paper slowly to ash as it crept down the edge, letting the gray flakes scatter across the wooden surface-

“Boy!”

“Sorry- sorry.” Dean shook his head.

“We’re two minutes in and I’m already losing you. Somethin’ on your mind you need to get off?”

“No, I’m fine. Transmission?” Dean ran a hand through his hair and focused on the paper. His mind flickered to a face. No, Dean told himself.

“ _O-kay_.” Bobby said skeptically, “We’ve moved on the torque converter. Tell me about it.”

“It’s got the fluid in it so you don’t roll back, you know, when you’ve let go of the brake on a hill.” Dean sat back and made vague hand motions.

“Where it is on this model?” Bobby looked annoyed, but Dean was fairly used to this.

“Right here.” Dean tapped the pen in front of the box that represented the transmission. “Between the engine and the transmission. It allows the engine to spin without the wheels doing the spinning thing too.”

“Wrong.” Bobby took the pen and drew an X through it. “This is a stick.”

“Right.” Dean mumbled. “No torque converter, then.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Where’s Sammy?”

“With your dad, they’ll be home sometime tonight.” Bobby gruffed. “Pay attention.”

“I thought the job was going to take all weekend…” Dean trailed off. “I would have gone if I knew it was just going to be Satur-“

“Boy, unless you actually want to talk about yourself for once, pay a damn bit of attention!” Bobby snapped.

“Yeah, right.” Dean bit his lower lip. He thought of another pair of lips and violently pushed the thought out of his mind. _Focus._

“There’s a clutch here, which connects the engine to the wheels. Where does a car pivot, Dean?”

“Back left tire.” Dean answered automatically. “Why?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you’re on your feet.” Bobby eyed him suspiciously. “You sure there’s nothing on your mind?”

“Just school.” Dean kept his eyes on the desk.

“Okay, lie a bit more obviously please,” Bobby scoffed, “since when in the hell have _you_ cared about school?”

“You push the clutch to disengage the engine from the wheels. You basically coast.” Dean muttered, begging the subject to turn back to cars. Bobby sighed roughly but went with it.

“Correct. You push the clutch to brake, change gears, and rev the engine when you want to scare the hell out of somebody in front of you.”

“The Impala’s not a stick. I don’t see how this is useful.” Dean traced a ring on the wood with his finger.

“I’ve heard you talking about being a mechanic one day, and you’re saying learning how to fix a manual isn’t _useful_? Well now I _know_ somethin’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing.” Dean frowned, looking up at the man. The sky was almost completely dark outside, but the lights filled the room fully and fell over the stern look on Bobby’s face.

“Nothing my ass.” Bobby leaned back and crossed his arms.

“I just-“ Dean ran a tongue over his lips, nervously glancing at the door as if his father would walk in any second. Dad wasn’t even in the house. Of course he couldn’t walk in. He wouldn’t walk in, right?

“I know you’re not worried ‘bout the paperwork, so what is it? Kids giving you trouble? A girl?” His voice softened on the last word.

“No.” Dean paused and it lingered enough to fill the silence after the sound ended. It hung there for a second before Dean continued, “Not a girl.”

“Well? What is it?” Bobby squinted.

“I-“ Dean laughed nervously, “I just- you know what? It’s nothing. Forget about it. I’ll focus now, tell me about the car. Please.”

“No. Boy, tell me what’s goin’ on. Not much you can surprise me with anymore, I’ve been through a lot.”

Dean felt nauseated. A literal sick-to-his-stomach feeling crept through him and ate away at the lining of his stomach. It crawled up his throat, catching his voice and forcing him to mouth blankly at Bobby like a fish.

“You actually going to speak sometime soon?” Bobby tilted his head slightly.

“It’s notagirl.” Dean rushed, completely out of his comfort zone. _Don’t you dare tell him, Dean. Dad will kill you_.

“So you’ve said.”

“But, it’s just-“ Dean paused with his mouth open and his face flushed, unable to even form the sentence. _He’ll tell your dad_. “Please don’t tell dad.”

“What on _earth_ have you done boy…” Bobby shook his head, “I’m not telling anyone anything. Spit it out already, won’t you?”

“There’s this boy. His name is Cas.” Dean barely breathed.

“Did you kill him or something?” Bobby said a bit too seriously for comfort.

“No! No- I mean, no. I’ve only spoken to him twice.” Dean clarified.

“I’ve killed people I’ve talked to fewer times than that…” Bobby smirked. “Okay, so there’s a boy named Cas. I’m listening.”

“I like him.” Dean bit his tongue; he would bet money that if he was standing right then he would have fainted. _You’ve fucked up, Dean_.

“You _like_ him?” Bobby struggled to comprehend Dean’s bits and pieces of his story.

“I like him. I like him… like I should like a girl.” Dean didn’t want to say it. Bisexual. Girls, cool. Boys, cool. Maybe he leaned a bit more to girls, but he couldn’t ignore the fact he checked out boys more often than not.

Bobby took a deep breath as Dean’s heart pounded in his ears and his hands shook. At that moment he feared Bobby’s reaction more than he’d ever feared any monster.

“Boy…” Bobby breathed, grabbing the paper in front of them again, “When you’re starting off in a stick, you’re in first gear.”

“W-what?” Dean stuttered, taken aback. “Aren’t you going to… I don’t know, say something?” _You’re basically asking for him to tell dad!_

“Dean, I’ve told you, I’ve seen a lot. Now, I wouldn’t go tellin’ your dad about it, but I’m not one to judge. For anything.” Bobby explained with a voice that sounded like he wondered why he had to explain at all, and Dean could breathe again.

“Okay. Okay.” Dean cleared his throat, unclenching his fists. “First gear for starting off. Got it.”

Bobby smiled, drawing a gear shift in the corner of the paper, and Dean felt himself smile too.

When the lesson ended, Bobby got up and sternly told Dean at least study the paper, if he wasn’t going to study for Sociology. Dean stood after and swallowed thickly before speaking.

“Bobby? Thank you.” Dean worried his lower lip, “Not just for this.” He motioned towards the paper.

“Yeah, yeah. You always assume the worst, don’t ya?  Despite all the bad in the world, Dean, not everyone is as out to get you as you think. Now go get some sleep, idgit. Your dad and brother will be home soon.”

Dean nodded and smiled a little, but for the rest of the evening he still couldn’t quite keep his mind on cars. He didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about young!dean struggling with his sexuality, and I've always thought that Bobby had been through too much to judge anyone for anything.


End file.
